Little one
Don't think you are little one
Picking things and throw it at any one
Creeping, playing and making noise
Crying and doing funny voice
With your charmed smile
You give the hope to which they gloom
And by your pure soul
Make the premula to be bloom
Glossy rays from your eyes
Steeling the bright from stars
You small fingers and hands
As a packet of chocolate mars
So, never thing you are tiny beings
You make the life with a lot means
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem